


Man's Best Friend

by Havelocked



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:58:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havelocked/pseuds/Havelocked
Summary: A Short-ish story about Life and Death, Love and Loyalty, Owner and Pet.





	Man's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> A Short-ish story about Life and Death, Love and Loyalty, Owner and Pet.  
Expect hurt, grief, and no real comfort besides the solace that can be found in the similar woes of others - loss is something we all face sooner or later.  
Inspired by facing the mortality of my own dear dog - and realising there was a Discworld character who must surely have faced the same (then musing over how he’d handle it and the role his canine friend had played in his life - glimpsed through the books, but little more).  
Dedicated to pets, their love and those who love them.  
\----  
A/N: The concept for this story first came to me on the 2nd of January 2015, when my own dog's health had taken a severe turn for the worse and it felt like we might lose her. I'm glad to say she recovered and made it past her 14th birthday, passing on on the 16th August 2018. In between those times I occassionally worked on this and kept notes, developing it slowly. I've noticed that Zoya has posted a work on the same topic last year, hence this little preamble on this work's development, and in any case I've heard it said the same ideas may be told in a myriad of ways, and so are still stories worth writing.

It was over.

The rise and fall of respiration beneath his fingers had quelled. There’d been a few harrowing gasps - reflexive, he knew, rather than functional - and a few twitches as muscles spasmed. The last sparks of life, fleeting as shooting stars vanishing into nothingness.

A breath passed, but not from the form upon his lap. It shuddered into and out of his lungs, threatening to let loose the torrent of sorrow within that trickled from his eyes (and rather annoyingly, though the least of his concerns in that moment, nose).

His hand rested upon wiry fur. It had been a few minutes now, but it still felt warm. Probably the heat of his hand or the glow of the fire. His mind was playing tricks on him: he was so used to watching that body breathing, to feeling the beat of a heart, that the rhythm of his own distorted his senses. Part of him just couldn’t believe it had come to this, though he knew it to be fact.

But, it was done now. The silver and glass of the empty syringe rested on the nearby side table, glittering in the firelight.

Vetinari raised a hand to his aching brow. In truth, the ache was extending down through his temples, his ears, his jaw and neck, and he couldn’t quite work out if the stabbing pains in his chest were from sheer emotion or thoughtless neglect of himself.

The chill that came over him was shock, he reasoned. How he could be shocked over this when he’d had such a hand in it defied reason, but reason and reality didn’t always tally. 

The swaddled body upon his lap felt more a lifeless weight with every passing minute. This was no longer Wuffles, but an empty, inanimate shell - what pottery was to a golem. And yet, sentiment remained.

He needed to get up, move, breathe, think, and much as he loved the creature who had once been his dearest companion, he couldn’t let himself remain trapped under this discarded mortal coil. Just as it had weighed its occupant down, now too did it weigh down him, in so many ways. 

But Vetinari couldn’t afford that. Because for so many others - himself included - Life Went On.

**Author's Note:**

> I've more chapters beyond this... not quite sure how long it will be or regularly it will be posted as I'm a way a fair bit over the next few weeks, but I hope to get them out there sooner rather than later (I've clearly got to get my act together and finish it off). But I wanted to get this first posted, what with it being a year on from my own dear dogs passing. I suppose it's a sort of catharsis and token to love and memory, and I know that might not be everyone's cup of tea, sorry. I've been sort of in two minds over posting given the nature of the topic, but I suppose I've been planning to for long enough to think "why not". I've been a bit uncertain over rating too for similar reasons.
> 
> The ending, when I get there, will be hopefully a bit more positive.


End file.
